


you are my only one.

by grieve



Category: ACCA13区監察課 | ACCA 13-ku Kansatsuka
Genre: M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-16 06:46:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10565847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grieve/pseuds/grieve
Summary: Nino smiles, leaning forward again to kiss Jean softly, reveling in the way Jean kisses back easily, and thinks:I can’t wait to do this for the rest of my life.





	

It happens as casual as this:

One night, while they’re in bed, and when Nino is almost on the cusp of sleep, Jean suddenly props himself up on one elbow and asks,

“Hey, Nino. Do you want to get married?”

Then, silence.

Only a few seconds pass, then 10, then 20, and then Jean is peering over towards Nino’s side of the bed with concern.

A pause, and then,

“Nino… Are you crying?”

-

_Trust Jean to propose in the most casual way,_ Nino thinks, later, when everything is all said and done, and they are curled around one another. He prods Jean slightly, checking to see if he’s still awake, and Jean gives a slight noise, but no other indication that he’s awake. Nino takes what he can get anyway.

“Jean.. Do you even have a ring?” Hours earlier, Nino thought nothing of the ring, as he was too busy wading through the rush of emotion he felt at Jean’s nonchalant proposal, and even after, they were too caught up in each other to give it any thought.

Jean gives another low noise, but he shifts in Nino’s arms nonetheless, opening his eyes just barely, “Couldn’t this wait until morning, Nino? I’m tired.”

“ _You’re_ the only who waited until _I_ was almost asleep to ask me if I wanted to get married,” Nino retorts, and Jean gives a huff, opening his eyes fully as he yawns, stretching his body as if like a cat in the sun, “I was going to do it earlier, at the bar, but I got too nervous.”

Nino blinks, and he regards Jean with a bemused expression, reaching out to brush a few wayward strands out of his eyes, “You got nervous? I thought drunk Jean was never nervous.”

Jean blushes lightly, which should have been hard to spot in the dark bedroom, but Nino has been watching Jean for long enough that it’s easy enough to spot. “I never said that,” To which Nino only gives a soft, unconvinced _hmm_ , and Jean huffs out another breath, looking up at him.

“At least I’m not the one who cried when his boyfriend proposed to him,” Jean says, a self satisfied smirk curling his mouth, and chuckles at Nino’s unamused expression, basking in the way Nino’s cheeks flush for once.

“It was sudden, and I was trying to sleep, if you remember. Not to mention, I was completely unprepared to have you propose to me at,” Nino squints at the clock on the beside table (to which Jean murmurs, “Do you need your glasses, old man?”, and to which Nino responds by shoving Jean lightly,) “midnight, on a Wednesday, no less.”

Jean yawns, and stretches again, not failing to notice the way Nino’s eyes track his every movement, and he tugs the covers up over his body again, snuggling in the pillows, “I’m tired, Nino, I’m going to sleep,” And with that, he promptly turns his back on him, leaving Nino to stare at the back of his head.

“Why are you like this,” Nino grumbles, settling in to the bed in turn, and he doesn’t miss the soft huff of laughter that sounds from the lump on the other side of the bed.

-

Sometime later, when Nino is yet again on the cusp of sleep, Jean turns over and presses something small and round into his palm, turning back over quickly as if embarrassed.

Nino gives a confused noise, and watches Jean blanket covered form for a few moments before regarding the object in his hand. It is a ring - plain, gold, and simple - and Nino feels a rush of emotion threatening to overcome him again, and he leans over to kiss the top of the golden head peeking out from over top of the blanket bundle. Just as he’s leaning back, Jean’s shifts and his face is exposed, cheeks stained red.

“Do you like it?” He asks, quietly, and Nino smiles, leaning forward again to kiss Jean softly, reveling in the way Jean kisses back easily, and thinks: _I can’t wait to do this for the rest of my life_.

“Yes,” Nino murmurs into the kiss, and he loves the smile he can feel on Jean’s lips.

—

They get married in Dōwaa, because Lotta insists on it, and once the King gets word of their engagement, he insists on it as well. Jean feels that they had no real choice in the matter, as he tells Nino later in their overly grand private room.

Nino gives a shrug, and crosses the room towards Jean, giving him a small, sly smile. He grabs one of Jean’s hands in his, gripping his fingers delicately as he bends down on one knee, and brushes the lightest of kisses over Jean’s knuckles.

“Are you saying you don’t like being fawned over like this, my prince?” Above him, Jean gives a scoff, and Nino glances up to see him looking away quickly, but the red high on his cheeks tells another story entirely.

“Don’t call me that,” Jean starts, but he has yet to pull his hand away, and the blush is curling down the hollow of his throat now, as it does when he’s particularly embarrassed, but also pleased.

Nino delights in the way that he can affect Jean in such a way with just a few simple actions, and he kisses his knuckles again, just because he can. Jean lets out a soft noise, and then he’s tugging Nino up, twining his fingers behind his neck, and then down into a bruising kiss. Nino offers no resistance, and he returns the kiss in full, winding his hands around Jean’s waist and follows as Jean leads them towards the bed.

(If they spend the rest of the day in bed, calling on the castle’s staff to bring them meals, and dutifully ignoring any sense of responsibility — well, it _is_ their wedding day soon, Jean says later, when asked by Lotta once they reemerge the next day.

She just huffs, but humors them nonetheless with a soft smile — they deserve it.)

—

Lotta brings both Rail and Maggie as her dates, and when she sees Jean’s frown, she simply gives a graceful shrug and smiles knowingly. This causes Jean’s frown to deepen, and he must look ridiculous, as from beside him Nino laughs, and curls an arm around his shoulders, turning him away from the trio. He leads Jean to a secluded spot pressed into the hallway, and faces him, bringing up his fingers to smooth out the furrow in Jean’s brow.

“The overprotective big brother look isn’t a good one for you, Jean.” He says, softly, and Jean rolls his eyes, but otherwise leans into Nino’s touch.

“I trust her, but can’t I also be worried about her?” Jean murmurs, as Nino slides a palm down to cup his cheek, and Jean shifts into it, easily, eyes closing.

“I’m sure she knows what she’s doing. Lotta is very sensible, and she knows that if anything were to happen, we would both be there in a heartbeat.” A pause, then a chuckle, and then, “Plus, I feel that the two of you are very similar in this regard.”

“How so?” Jean opens his eyes again, sparing a glance up at him, and Nino desperately wishes that he had his camera on hand. Instead, he simply slides his hand to curl around the base of Jean’s head, fingers sliding through the strands of golden hair.

“You both look like a cat who just caught the canary when it comes to your love life,” He says, and then leans in to kiss away the pout that is slowly forming on Jean’s mouth, laughing all the while.

—

During the actual ceremony, it’s a simple and standard one, as that is what both Jean and Nino requested. There aren’t many guests attending the wedding, with just the majority of guests consisting of Jean’s coworkers (who all gushed over Jean for what seemed like hours when he gave them their invitations, and remarked that he did seem happier lately, and of course Nino would be the cause, because isn’t he always? Jean blushed for quite some time after the exchange, and for the rest of the day, he couldn’t wipe away the soft smile that had taken over his face. Nino had been captivated by it.).

Neither of the two knew very many people to begin with, so the wedding was a rather small affair despite it being held in the royal castle. Jean insisted that it remained private, as despite being of royal blood, he had no intention of receiving the crown (as of yet), and as such, the ceremony should remain small and private. Lotta agreed, though begrudgingly, and Jean promised that during her own wedding, she could make it as extravagant as she wanted.

(He certainly didn’t miss the way her eyes cut immediately to both Rail and Maggie at the words, but he gave no remark. She deserved happiness — and the world, really — and Jean would never take that away from her.)

They didn’t follow any sort of set tradition for their marriage, and as such, they were both present at the altar at the same time, casting small, but pleased smiles at one another as the royal appointed clergy woman lead them through the ceremony. Their vows were short, but filled with the exact amount of emotion to convey their feelings, as was typical of them. (If Nino’s ran longer than Jean’s, and had him tearing up by the end of the speech — well, that was typical as well.) Jean’s were concise, and the the point, and to any outsider, they may have seemed too brief, too dismissive of the other’s feelings, but Nino had known Jean for more than 30 years, and he finally had a grasp on the other’s feelings towards him, so he understood exactly what he was trying to convey, and all the was said and unsaid.

When finally — _finally,_ they both thought, — were allowed to exchange their rings, they did so unspokenly, their gazes telling the other exactly what they felt in that moment, as at this point, they were fluent in the unspoken language of each other.

As Jean’s fingers brushed along the outside of Nino’s finger as he slid the ring on, it conveyed: _Thank you for everything you’ve done for us, Nino,_ and as his fingers graced the underside of his palm as he pulled away, that conveyed: _I love you more than I could ever tell you, and I don’t think I’ll ever find the right words to tell you, but I’ll try for the rest of my life._

In turn, as Nino’s fingers brushed along the outside of Jean’s finger as he slid the ring on, that conveyed: _I’d do anything for you, Jean — you and Lotta are my family, and I don’t want to lose that,_ and as his fingers graced the underside of his palm as he pulled away, that conveyed: _I love you, I love you, I love you, — and I’ll always know every unspoken word you’ll never say._

When they kiss, the guests erupt in applause, and they both can feel the curve of a smile on the other’s lips, and both think, simultaneously, _I never thought we could end up here, I can’t wait to spend forever with you._

—

When everything is all said and done, when the wedding proceedings are truly well and finished, when the guests are mingling and talking amongst themselves, after the cake has been cut and toasts have been delivered, Nino finds himself overlooking the very same balcony that Jean looked over upon his and Lotta’s first visit to the castle — which seems like a lifetime ago, but when reality, had only been a few years at most.

Nino lets the cool breeze wash over him as he peers down over the balcony, the fading light of day painting a picturesque scene of the royal city, and his fingers twitch upon the phantom shutter button of a camera this is not there. Through the open doors to the balcony, he can still hear the ongoings of the party inside, the upbeat music of the orchestra, the laughing of guests, and other noises that Nino finds himself slowly drowning out, focusing instead on the call of birds as they settle down for the night, the steady drum of the city below, and eventually, the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears.

He lets the proceedings of the day replay through his mind again, and feels such a rush of emotion that he has to grip the railing of the balcony in order to stay steady, and opts to lean upon it instead, overcome with such sheer happiness.

He's smiling, wide and unhindered, he realizes, as he brings two fingers to his mouth, tracing the curve absentmindedly.

Today, he got married to the very same prince he swore to protect all this years ago, and the one who, essentially, had become the love of his life through the course of their growing friendship. He hadn't realized such feelings until they we both well out of high school, and even then, it wasn't a grand occasion. He simply came to the realization during one of their nightly outings to their preferred bar, a night like any other, unremarkable.

(As Nino looked at Jean at any point during that night, he found it suddenly very hard to look away, drawn in as if by a gravitational pull, and Nino was merely just a passerbyer, pulled into Jean’s orbit. Had it always been like that? Nino, helpless to the way Jean seemed to drag him in with just a few words, and even less glances? He’d spent so long chasing Jean with just the lens of his camera, capturing his image in a plethora of photos, that he supposes it was just natural for him to fall into some sort of familiar routine with Jean. Which, incidentally, included falling in love with him somewhere along the way.

He’d spent the rest of the night as if in a daze, his heart pounding in his ears, as he basked in Jean’s presence, and watched the panes of his face carefully, studying his features as if he’d never seen them before. He watched, as was his nature, while Jean was oblivious to the realization that had dawned in his best friend, and — thinking back, perhaps Jean wasn’t as oblivious that night as he had previously thought.)

Nino shakes his head free of the memory, and he lets out a soft laugh — they’d been dancing around their feelings for one another for a large portion of the friendship, without a slightest indication that the other felt the same. He lifts his hand up to eye level, gazing at the golden band adorning his ring finger, and finds himself overcome with that same rush of emotion. He’d never thought he’d be able to experience such happiness, with a future he could look forward to without a hint of fear, a future in which he’d spent the rest of his life with his best friend, who had eventually become the love of his life.

During the course of their friendship, Nino had felt a certain kind of… emptiness. A hole that existed in his being, filled only with doubts and fears and worries of the future, a future in which Jean and Lotta would not need him anymore, a future in which he’d no longer be apart of their close knit family, a future in which Nino was alone, washed up and far too old. His whole life had been built up around the Otus siblings, and for a long time — they were all he knew.

Actually becoming Jean’s friend was almost akin to a dream, one in which he felt slightly out of place in, one in which he’d offer anything to Jean and expected nothing in return. That feeling didn’t subside for awhile, not until well after high school, at least, when he had become easily accepted into the dynamic of Jean and Lotta’s life without him really realizing it. They had been a trio — a family, a small voice in the back of Nino’s head reminds him — for such a long time, that it’d seemed almost silly for him to have any doubts regarding his place in the sibling’s lives. He belonged to a family again, and that thought never ceased to make his heart light with relief. And once he’d actually confirmed his feelings for Jean to himself, and actually confessed those feelings to Jean, the future suddenly seemed much more stable and bright than it had ever been before.

Nino would do anything for Jean and Lotta, and this time, it didn’t stem solely from what was his duty, but rather from a place deeper, a place of familial protectiveness, and a mantra that he’d protect his newfound family no matter what. He’d taken a bullet — or rather, two — for Jean, and he’d do it all over again if it meant keeping the two of them safe. He’d been set free from his job, and rather than choosing a path that led away from the siblings, as others might have expected, he followed the path that led straight back towards his found family, and hadn’t looked back even once.

He looks out into the distance, where the sun has long since set, with a blanket of stars spread out against the sky, and thinks, _I deserve this_ , and repeats those words for a long time after.

—

Jean joins him sometime later, cheeks flushed red and his tie undone, with his collar partway open, and Nino knows immediately that he’s already taken advantage of the open bar in order survive through the constant prodding done by his co-workers.

“Have you been out here the whole time?” Jean says once he’s at Nino’s side, words only slightly slurred, and Nino fights back an ever growing smile. He angles his body so that he is facing Jean fully, and gives a slow shrug, eyes taking in the flush that is beginning to paint Jean’s throat and the tips of his ears.

“I needed some air, and you looked like you were having fun.” Nino says, a smirk forming on his mouth at the last bit.

“Jerk,” Jean says, as he gives a half-hearted punch towards Nino’s arm, missing the mark almost completely, and sways slightly with the motion. Nino instantly reaches out an arm to steady him, and keeps hold of him with a hand on his arm, which then slides down to clasp at Jean’s own.

Nino intertwines their fingers, smiling as the action makes their rings clash against one another, and he brings up their joined hands to his lips, kissing the gold bang upon Jean’s finger. Jean watches the proceedings with lowered lids — as Nino watches him, ever closely — mouth parted just slightly, then his gaze snaps up to meet Nino’s, and he flushes more, if possible, at being caught.

“You’ve become such a sap,” Jean murmurs, but there’s a there’s a smile lacing his tone and creeping onto his mouth, so Nino know he’s not being serious in his remark. “How am I ever going to handle it?”

Nino presses another kiss on Jean’s ring, a twin to the ring on Nino’s own finger, making sure to keep eye contact with Jean all the while in order to catch the way Jean’s gaze softens, “I’m sure you’ll manage, and find ways keep me in check.”

Jean opts for a soft, amused _hmm_ instead of an actual answer, and tugs out of Nino’s grip, leaning on the balcony next to him. He tugs his cigarette case out of his suit jacket, and slips one out, lighting it soon thereafter. Nino watches, mesmerized, as the smoke curls around Jean’s finger like a caress, and once again, his fingers twitch against a phantom shutter button.

Jean notices him staring, of course, and offers him a smirk that would never been found on the face of a sober Jean Otus. He leans into Nino’s space, and exhales a haze of smoke that should have Nino coughing, but he’s gotten so used to it, so much so that he’s become almost addicted to the smoky clouds. He’s never told Jean that directly, but he must know, because it’s become such a habit for the two of them, and he does it almost every time.

This close, Jean smells of cigarettes and alcohol, and Nino is drowning in the scent.

—

Eventually, they make their way back to the party (though, not entirely by choice, as Lotta finds them later and all but drags them back into the room, making a show of doing so, but she’s smiling at them all the while), and the two of them find themselves on the dance floor, laughing as they twirl in short circles.

“Are you sure you’re not drunk too, Nino?” Jean asks, smiling wider than Nino ever thought was possible for such a stoic face, and he laughs, easily, as Nino twirls them yet again.

“I’m sure you’ll the only one who is, Jean, which isn’t a surprise. You’ve always been such a lightweight,” Nino teases, laughing at the way Jean gives him a mock pout that doesn’t stay a pout for very long, as it shifts into a smile again in mere seconds.

“I can’t believe I married such a rude old man,” Jean retorts, laughing as Nino’s expression turns into a brief frown, and then he lowers his voice, pressing closer into Nino, “Actually, I can’t believe we’re really married.”

Nino’s gaze turns soft, and he tightens his grip on Jean, sliding a secure hand to grip at his waist, “It almost seems unreal, doesn’t it?”

Jean hums in response, and lowers his head down onto Nino’s shoulder, pressing into him. “You know, I think I’ve always wanted to marry you,” He tucks his face into Nino’s neck, embarrassed, and continues, voice muffled, “Ever since we met in school, actually. I had a crush on you even back then, did you know?”

Nino thinks back to their school days, remembers their first meeting, the brush of their fingers as they reached for the pen, the way his heart felt heavy the moment their eyes met for the first time in person. He remembers their progression into an easy friendship after that, and the way Jean had become progressively more casual in his brief touches on Nino’s person, the way his fingers always seemed to linger for just a few more seconds, how Nino was the one he came to when he heard the news of their parent’s untimely death, seeking comfort in him, and how he’d always look at Nino as if he were the only person the world. Back then, Nino wasn’t quite as aware of Jean’s feelings towards him, but thinking back, he couldn’t believe how oblivious he’d been. Of course, back then, he couldn’t have actually done anything to reciprocate Jean’s feelings, a thought that still brought an ache to his heart, and even when they were out of high school, he’d still been unsure of Jean’s feelings towards him.

In the present, however, Nino laughs and buries his head in Jean’s hair, the slight strawberry scent making his heart stutter in it’s cadence, “I think I had an idea, but even then, I couldn't have done anything, you know.”

Jean shifts, lips moving against Nino’s neck, and Nino shudders lightly at the sensation, “I know. You turned me down, once. I confessed to you, actually, and you turned me down, politely of course, but I still felt slightly betrayed. I was in a slump for weeks, but I couldn’t stay mad at you. Later, you told me that it’d be better if we stayed friends, and I held that with me for a long time after. But now,” He pauses, and moves so that he’s looking at Nino directly, and gives an amused smile, “Imagine if my past self could see us now, would he be happy? Or would he call you a liar?”

Nino laughs again, and gives an extended thoughtful _hmm_ , as if thinking carefully over the answer, “I think he’d be jealous. I was his first crush, after all. What would he say about you marrying that crush?”

“I think he’d say that you’ve become much too big headed, and you should really stop before you topple over,” Jean says with the straightest face he’s managed all night, but it’s broken not a second later when he laughs, complexion flushing all over again. Nino can’t look away, he’s drawn in like a moth to the light — as if Jean is the golden sun above, and he may as well be, with his halo of golden hair, and Nino is a moth helpless to the flame.

Jean’s laughing now, his head thrown back in mirth, and the long line of his throat revealed, and Nino can’t do anything but watch, and look, and stare. How did he become so lucky? Jean settles himself, and notices Nino’s eyes on him, and gives him a soft smile, bringing up his hands to cradle his face instead.

“I love you, Nino,” He whispers, as if saying the words any louder in the space between them would break the spell, “I’ve loved you for such a long time, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” He brushes his fingers against Nino’s jaw, against his lips, against his cheeks — memorizing the shape. He’s muttering endearments now, in a tone low enough that Nino can’t make them out entirely, but he thinks that he knows the gist of them anyway, and he smiles. He wonders, vaguely, how much of this Jean will remember once he’s sober again. For the umpteeth time, Nino wishes he had his camera on hand.

“I love you too, Jean,” He returns, bringing his hands up against Jean’s, stilling and covering them, and turns his head to kiss at one of his hands.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to figure that out.” _I’m sorry I’m so old_ , goes unspoken, but Jean hears it anyway, and he leans forward to kiss him, whispering _No apologies today_ , against his mouth.

—

Near the end of the night, when the guests are beginning to shuffle out, and the food is almost completely gone, and the band is winding down, and the clock is drawing ever closer to midnight, Lotta insists that they all take a photo together.

“I haven’t had a chance to take any photos with you two all night!” She exclaims, cheeks flushed in a way that is so similar to Jean’s own, “We have to before you two leave for the honeymoon!”

“Honeymoon…?” Jean murmurs, and he spares a glance at Nino, who gives him a shrug and a private smile that has Jean blushing for reasons very much unrelated to alcohol.

“Stop flirting with each other, and get around me," Lotta says, and they follow her instruction promptly, though they can’t stop the way they share a glance, and then Nino leans to whisper something in Jean’s ear that has him blushing all over again, and when Jean turns to meet his gaze, the flash of the camera quickly goes off.

“You two couldn’t even stop looking at each other for one second, and even try to take a proper picture,” Lotta says with a pout, but she’s fighting back a smile and is looking at them with such fondness that they all know she doesn’t mean her words.

She shows them both the picture, and Nino bites down a laugh — she’s right, of course, Lotta is the only one looking into the camera with such an expression of, “Can you believe these two?”, while Nino and Jean are looking at each other only, with such adoration carved into the features that it is noticeable even through the picture.

“I like it,” Jean says softly, fingers reaching out to graze the picture on the screen lightly, while Nino nods in agreement, “You might be a better photographer than, Nino.”

Lotta beams up at Jean, and then laughs at the scowl on Nino’s face, which quickly morphs into a grin nonetheless, and he’s tugging the two of them close in for a hug. Lotta lets out a noise of delight as Jean gives a surprised _oof_ , and the three of them simply stand there, in the middle of the room, huddled against one another, simply basking in the presence of each other — their small, but happy family.

Lotta is the first one to break away, and she looks up at the two of them with such a soft, adoring smile that both Jean and Nino are taken aback by how much she looks like their mother, just right then, “I’d love to spend the rest of the night hugging you two, but you’ve got a honeymoon to prepare for and I,” She glances away, towards the last the straggling guests, two of whom seem to be waiting for her, specifically, “Have to head home too.”

She comes in for another tight hug, and squeezes them both tight, despite her being the shortest of the three, “I love you both so, so, so much! I’m so glad you found each other, and Jean, remember not to eat too much bread and don’t smoke too much, and Nino, make sure Jean doesn’t eat too much bread and hide his cigarette case, and remember to have fun! And take lots of photos!!! But,” Here Lotta looks up at Nino specifically, narrowing her eyes, “Not any of those pictures I found last time in your album, Nino, you know exactly the ones I’m talking about,” She says, as Nino feigns an innocent expression, and Jean’s cheeks burn bright red, “Anyway, have fun, take photos, and remember to call me! Bye!”

She gives them one last bruising hug, which both Jean and Nino wince at, and leans up to kiss Jean on the cheek, whispering, “I’m so happy for you,” and then onward to Nino’s, “Treat him kindly, or else.” She pulls away with a beaming smile, and bounds away from the two of them, waving before she turns around and links arms with Rail and Maggie.

They both watch her go, returning her wave as Jean grumbles, “If they do anything to hurt her,” and Nino laughs, grabbing his hand and tugging him away, while Jean mutters other vaguely threatening sentiments under his breath.

“Relax, Jean, she’ll be fine,” Nino assures on the way back to their room, and once there, tugs off his suit jacket, draping it over an extra chair, “Now, we better listen to Lotta’s instruction and get ready for the honeymoon, as she said.”

His tone is teasing, but Jean blushes nonetheless, and attempts to cover it with a disinterested glance away, but Nino can see the quirk of his smile. He undoes the knot in his tie, and tugs free the collar of his shirt, noting the way Jean is watching him from the corner of his eye, and extends out the time it takes for him to undo his shirt.

Until, that is, Jean is turning and giving a frustrated noise, pressing his hands against Nino’s shirt, undoing the buttons in a hurry, and surges up into a desperate kiss, as he tugs his shirt free from his pants. Nino’s own hands move to peel off Jean’s suit jacket, and he laughs into the kiss, wincing only slightly as Jean’s teeth nip at his lip in turn, and soon, they find themselves tumbling into the bed, laughing against each other’s mouths.

_I love you_ , they both think as Nino runs his hands down Jean’s body, and Jean gasps into his mouth, and they both know exactly what goes unspoken between them.

_I know._

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading this.... sappy mess fic. i didn’t intend for this to get quite as lengthy as it did, but it was fun. this is also very much unbeta'd, apart from my own skimming, and if that shows through, i'm sorry. 
> 
> anyway, thanks for reading !!!


End file.
